


Let's Make a Deal

by Tator



Series: The Ghost and his artist husband [2]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M, kidnapped!steve, mafia!Natasha, mafia!bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 09:56:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6700279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tator/pseuds/Tator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coulson watched as the guy in interview sat waiting. Something was off about this guy. Coulson knew it. He could tell the difference between someone who hadn’t slept because of worry, and someone who hadn’t slept because of planning. What was this guy planning, though? That was the question. </p><p>or the one where Steve gets kidnapped by the mafia as ransom</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Make a Deal

**Author's Note:**

> You really don't have to read the other work in the series to understand this. It actually occurs before the other one.

Coulson watched as the guy in interview sat waiting. His clothes were rumpled, like he was been wearing them a couple days, and the bags under his eyes with his unwashed hair made it clear that this guy hadn’t slept in at least a day or two. He was staring into his coffee cup as he fidgeted in his seat. Something was off about this guy. Coulson knew it. He could tell the difference between someone who hadn’t slept because of worry, and someone who hadn’t slept because of planning. What was this guy planning, though? That was the question. 

He walked into the room, quickly looking through the case file in his hands. “Hello, Mr. Barnes. I’m Detective Coulson.”

Barnes looked up and the bags under his eyes stood out even more compared to the lifeless blue of his irises. Creepy, Coulson thought. “Call me Bucky.” Coulson nodded as he sat down in the chair across from him. 

He looked at the file again. Missing person’s case, not usually his forte, but he could handle it. It didn’t seem too bad. The guy missing was a Steven Grant Rogers-Barnes, Bucky’s husband it appeared. Retired vet, art gallery owner, and not a single thing on his record. Seemed like the perfect guy. He had a perfect face too if the picture on the top of the report was accurate at all.

“So, Bucky,” Coulson started. “When was the last time you saw your husband?” 

Bucky shifted in his seat. “Um, I mean last time I saw him was over a week ago. I left for a business trip on the fifteenth, but I talked to him on the phone three days ago, in the morning.”

“What did you guys talk about?” 

Bucky blinked at him for a second. Coulson suddenly realized how cold the steel table keeping them apart really was. “Nothing really. He was telling me about some of his clients he was seeing that day, and asked how the meetings were going. It was just to check in really.” 

Coulson quickly scribbled something onto his notepad. _Husband seems off, not nervous though._ “Did he seem nervous? Anxious? Anything out of the usual?”

“No,” Bucky shook his head, looking back into the coffee. “Everything seemed normal.” 

The detective nodded. “Is it unusual for him to be gone this long? Is it possible he could have just been away for the night and forgot to mention it to you?” 

“He wouldn’t do that,” Bucky shook his head again. “No. I mean, he sometimes lets time get away from him. When he’s painting or drawing or something, sometimes he would go off the radar for a few hours, but only a few hours, not days. And I know all the spots, and he isn’t there.”

“So he doesn’t go anywhere without telling you?” Coulson raised an eyebrow. _Posessive?_

Bucky looked him in the eye then, and Coulson suddenly became aware that he hadn’t looked him directly in the eye before now. There was something underneath the blue that Coulson couldn’t quite read, and he was known for reading people. “Not for three days. He wouldn’t leave that long without telling me. He promised me that. He told me that he wouldn’t go anywhere I couldn’t get him if something were to happen to him. So, yeah, he tells me where he is going.”

God, he was getting edgy. Not a good sign. “What do you mean if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“He joined the army when he was eighteen. Got deployed three days after basic. I think he went over three or four times, maybe five. It’s all a blur really. But uh, I couldn’t join the army with him. I would’ve, but uh, already got one arm missing. Army doesn’t want the guilt of the other one gone, too.” Coulson’s eyes flicked down to Bucky’s left arm. It was metal. He hadn’t noticed that before. Most be some Stark Tech prototype from the look of it. 

Coulson nodded. “So, he doesn’t leave this long without letting you at least know where he is going.” Bucky nodded. “How long do you think he’s been gone?” 

Bucky ran a hand through his hair. “Uh, I came back to the house yesterday afternoon, and Winter, our dog, was outside. Steve leaves him outside when he goes on a run in the morning. So, gotta be two days max, right?” 

Coulson nodded. That would make sense. “Was Steve acting strange before you left for your trip?” Bucky shook his head. “There were no fights or any tension?”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “You think he left me? No, no, he wouldn’t. We’ve known each other since we were kids. Been together since we were teenagers. Nothing we couldn’t get through. We’d always work it out.” He looked back down. _Doesn’t want to accept possible alternatives such as being left,_ Coulson quickly scribbled out. 

“These are just standard questions. We have to make sure we cover all our bases, Mr. Barnes. I only have a few more questions before I let you get home.” 

Once the interview was done, and Bucky out the building, Coulson sighed, rubbing his eyes. Something was off about this case, he knew it. His instincts were never off. Something was just not _right_. But, both Steve and Bucky had perfect records. It didn’t even look like they had any traffic violations, which wasn’t unusual in New York, but it was still unnerving. He walked out the room and over to his desk. 

“How’s it going?” Hill asked him. “Case not as easy as you thought?” 

“There’s something weird about the husband. Not like abusive weird, just like there is something we don’t know about him. Seemed really upset when I asked if Steve might have left him though, so it might be worse than I had initially thought. Didn’t say there were any enemies though, on either side.”

“Well,” she dropped a file on his desk. “Last call he made was to a Samuel Wilson a couple hours after the one to the husband. Appears to be a friend of his from the military. Here’s his address. Fury says take Rumlow over with you if you’re going to talk to him.”

Coulson groaned. “Do I have to take _Rumlow_?”

The two of them arrived at the townhouse in Brooklyn that belonged to Wilson an hour later. They were sitting in a pretty plain living room surrounded by boxes as Wilson stepped out to do something in the kitchen. The only thing that was out so far was the big pieces of furniture and a few pictures. Coulson scanned over them quickly. There was one or two that had Steve in them, even one with Steve and Bucky, but majority were of Wilson and what appeared to be another man around his age. “All the fags flock together, don’t they?” Rumlow muttered under his breath. Coulson had to resist the heavy urge to elbow him in the ribs. Fury said you can’t break another coworker’s bones, or you get fired, he thought to himself. 

“Yeah, actually.” Wilson came back into the room holding a glass of water. “It’s a proven fact that people of minority communities tend to stick together.” He picked up the picture that Rumlow had been looking at and smiled fondly. “That’s Riley, my finance. We met in the Air Force where we were both pararescues. Did five tours each by the time we both got out, almost broke the record for most successful missions. Didn’t get it by one, shame really.” 

Great, Coulson thought, Rumlow has been here for five minutes and already successfully offended the fundamental values of an important witness and decorated war hero. This was going great. “I apologize for my partner, Mr. Wilson.” He got a tight smile in return before Wilson sat down. 

“What can I help you with? Can’t say that I’ve been in the area long enough to really have the cops on me.” 

“We’re here on a missing person’s case. It seems like you were the last one to speak with Steven Rogers-Barnes.”

Sam sat up in his seat, with a little panic in his eyes. “Steve’s missing?” 

“His husband filed the report this morning, saying he thinks he has been missing for two days.”

“Jesus,” Wilson looked down at his hands. “I, uh, don’t know how much help I will be. I mean, we talked a couple days ago, but I just moved in here. So I haven’t seen him in a week at least.” 

“What did you two talk about last time you spoke?” 

“He asked how the moving in was going. Besides that we chatted about nothing really. He told me about a restaurant to try a few blocks away, but nothing important.” Wilson ran his hands over his face. 

“So nothing seemed off about him?” Wilson shook his head. “Do you think there would be any reason that he might want to leave town?”

“No,” Wilson replied. “I mean, the guy has a business here, and Bucky is here. No way would he leave.” 

“How is his relationship with his husband?” 

Wilson gave him a questioning look. “It’s great. They’re head over heels for each other. Been that way before I came around. I mean, when we were overseas, I met Steve on a mission my second tour and only had great things to say back then, too. Riley and I lived with them for a few months when we were trying to find a place, and I swear, even when they were fighting they were still practically swooning.” Coulson scribbled down onto his notepad again. _Relationship seems to be very good on the surface._ They were getting nowhere, he thought. 

***

“How’d the cops go?” Natasha flicked a piece of copper hear off her face. She was sprawled out on Bucky’s desk chair as he entered his office. He just sneered at her before she moved. “Not helpful then?” 

“Are they ever?” Bucky asked before looking over some of the files on his desk. “Did Sam call?” Natasha nodded. “Good, we’re right on schedule then.” He shifted some more papers on his desk, but she could tell that he wasn’t really reading them. Bucky always got like this when it came to his dear blonde. He got fidgety, anxious. She didn’t like it. It made it feel like he was compromised. 

“You don’t have to pretend.” Natasha said as she sat in one of the other chairs in the room. Bucky raised an eyebrow at her before looking back at a file. “I know you,” she reminded him. “Not as long as Steve, but close. So keep up the performance all you want, but don’t do it on my part. I know you’re scared.” 

“What would you do if it was Barton?” 

She looked up at the suddenness of the question. To be honest, she didn’t really expect him to say anything back to her. Natasha shifted. There was a heavy pause in the room where Bucky looked at Natasha with a seriousness that she hadn’t seen in years. And then she thought about it, actually _thought_ about it. Why would she do if they took Clint? Bucky sat back in his chair before cocking his head. “I’d kill them all.” Bucky nodded slowly, still looking at her with that heavy look. “Yeah, alright. I get it.” 

Bucky looked at her for another second before shaking off whatever had taken over him. He cleared his throat. “I’m scared, Nat. Haven’t been this scared since his first deployment. I remember thinking that I would never get him back and this patriotic duty he had was going to take him away from me. And there’s a chance that these guys are going to off him before I can get to him.”

“They wouldn’t dare kill him. That’s just bad business. We’ll get him.” 

“I know,” Bucky laughed darkly before standing up to stalk to the window. “I always did some of my best work when I was angry. And it certainly has been a while.” Natasha stopped the shudder that came from the tone of his voice. She remembered the last time someone made him furious. “So, let’s go get him.” 

***

“When are they supposed to be here?” Zola paced around the table again. 

Pierce was getting annoyed with him. “Zola, sit down and shut up. You’re looking like a caged animal.” 

“Are you not at all worried about what could happen?” He asked as he dropped into the sit beside Pierce. They were at an abandoned warehouse, cliché but effective. There wasn’t much here besides the table and few chairs. It certainly wasn’t the best place for a business meeting, but the dead of night seemed to create the right mood that Pierce was going for.

Pierce scoffed. “Barnes wouldn’t mess this up. Not with our insurance.” Pierce looked back behind him to Rumlow who was standing with a gun to where the unconscious hostage was tied up to a chair. He didn’t look well off, the hostage, his eye was swollen shut and bruises were all over his face. Pierce knew that there were more bruises and cuts and wounds down the man’s body. It wasn’t Pierce’s fault that Rumlow was sensitive and the hostage had a stubborn mouth. “Besides, if it goes unplanned, Rumlow can expose Barnes easily. We have everything we need to keep the upper hand.” 

They waited for a few more minutes before they heard the screeches of tires rolling up outside the warehouse. Two people walked in. Pierce quickly recognized Barnes and only vaguely remembered the woman that he was with. They were both dressed like they came for a business meeting and not a fight, which was good. They’re sharp suits would most likely constrict any quick movements they would try to make. “Ah, Mr. Barnes, I’m glad you could make it.” 

Barnes smiled over at him and gave him a tight smile. “Pierce, always a pleasure.” 

“Please, sit,” Pierce motioned for the seats on the other side of the table. “We have much to discuss.” The two sat quickly, neither one of them looking behind Pierce at where the hostage was sitting. It was unnerving, Pierce thought. He thought the man would be frantic to get to the other, but it didn’t seem that way in the slightest. There could have been a miscalculation somewhere. “So, your organization has been causing mine quite the trouble.” 

Bucky smiled again. “Times are changing, Pierce. You didn’t think you could control the entire borough without any trouble.” 

“You seem to think you can.” 

“Ah, but we are quite different people,” Barnes cocked his head. “You can’t keep control of one borough for more than a few months at a time. You’ve moved from the Bronx to Manhattan to Brooklyn and then Queens all within the last two years. I, however, have had the entire city in my hand for little over five years at this point, and yet, no one has come close to taking her from me.” 

“That certainly isn’t true. You wouldn’t be here if that was true.” 

Barnes’ eyes hardened and the woman next to him leaned forward in her chair. “Who do you think lets you stay here, Pierce? You think it’s just luck that once you leave one neighborhood you can go to another? I _let_ you stay. It’s good business to keep some competition around, you know. Makes my customers realize that what I’m offering is the real deal.” 

“If you knew all about business, we wouldn’t be here, would we?” Pierce asked with a smile. 

“What you’re doing isn’t business,” the woman snarled at him. 

“Hold back your dog, Barnes,” Pierce scoffed. 

Barnes gave him an amused look. “Oh, Natasha does what she pleases. She certainly isn’t mine to control. I give my employees free will.”

“Enough,” Pierce raised a hand. “Let’s talk real business. Your organization leaves the area, and I give you back what you came here for.” 

Barnes said some clipped words in another language to the woman. It sounded like Russian, but Pierce couldn’t be too sure with those eastern European languages. They all sounded the same. “We’re going to have to deny your request.” 

“Excuse me?” Pierce was flabbergasted. This man was insane. He had a gun to someone’s head who is supposed to be important to him, and he was acting like he was still the one with all the cards. 

“Pierce,” Barnes started before standing, both hands on the table. The woman doing the same. Pierce took notice of the gleam that came off of the prosthetic arm, and then noticed the woman’s nails were sharpened into claws. “You have got to be the stupidest man I have had the displeasure of being around. Do you really think I am going to give you one of the most profitable sectors of the city?”

“Rumlow,” Pierce lifted a hand. The sound of a gun being coked rang out clear in the air. Barnes looked behind him for the first time, face going blank. Pierce had seen that look on men’s faces before, the one where nothing else mattered anymore. Emotion ceased in the body and all that mattered was that moment; that was when men were capable of their worst Pierce had learned. Barnes looked back down to him, something else in his eyes that wasn’t there before. “Now, as I was saying-“

“Steve,” Barnes said, cutting off Pierce. His eyes flicked up behind where Pierce was sitting, and there was a slight fond smile on his face. “Steve, doll, you hear me?” There was a groan in response. Pierce didn’t even know that the hostage was awake. “Keep your eyes closed for me, okay love?” Another groan. Barnes looked over at Zola before focusing on Pierce again. “So, to sum up this conversation, you get the neighborhood or you kill my husband.” Pierce nodded. “I don’t like that deal.” 

“I don’t think you have a lot to say about it, Barnes.” Pierce sneered at him. 

Barnes smiled and straightened out his spine, running his hands over the front of his suit. “I’ve got a lot left to say. It’s about time I change the rules.” 

A shot rang out clear throughout the empty warehouse. Zola was the only one to flinch as the body hit the floor. Barnes looked behind Pierce again and smiled a wide, toothy grin. He walked around the table slowly. “Good business, Pierce, takes a smart team, a good one, one that has a variety of skill sets. You see, on my team, I have one of everything. Natasha, she’s the muscle, and she also trains her people to be almost as good as her.” The woman in question gave a shark tooth grin. “Then of course there is the second best sniper in the world. Give us a wave, Clint. He makes sure my people can shoot straight.” Barnes looked up into the rafters where a man was sitting lazily holding a gun in one hand. He lifted a few fingers for a quick greeting. “I know you didn’t come here alone, Pierce. Even you aren’t that dumb. Let’s see what you’re team can do compared to mine, so want to meet them?” 

Natasha launched across the table, quickly snapping Zola’s neck. Pierce let out a quick cry of something unintelligible as Barnes came behind, wrapping Pierce’s tie around his own neck, choking him. The other hand coming up to grip his hair as he was forced to watch the scene around him. Both teams came in quickly. Pierce’s far outnumbered Barnes’, but he didn’t lie. His team was good. The man in the rafters alone took out about ten of Peirce’s people before dropping from the ceiling to join in the fight. “Come on, Pierce. Watch your destruction,” Barnes growled in his ear, tightening the hand on his tie to the point where Pierce was seeing stars. 

It was a fast battle. Pierce’s men were incapacitated in less than ten minutes, and once it was over, Barnes released his hold on the tie. Pierce’s head dropped down on the table, unconscious. “Fucking idiot,” he muttered as he looked around. No one on his team seemed to be hurt, mostly just smug looking. “Natasha, get this place scrubbed. Take Pierce to the office. I’ll deal with him later tonight.”

She nodded quickly, and Barnes turned around to finally look at what he came for. He walked in quick and efficient steps over to the man still tied to the chair. “Hey, baby,” Bucky whispered as he kneeled down in front of Steve, his face in his hands. “Hey, Stevie, you here, doll?” Steve’s head shook, like he was trying to shake something off. The one eye that could open did, and he blinked a few times before he looked like he was with it. “There you are.” Bucky gave him a smile before kissing his forehead. “I’m going to get you out of here, love. Don’t you worry.” He made quick work of the knots that held Steve to the chair. 

***

Coulson stood outside the hospital room, waiting for Hill to meet him before talking to the missing person who was no longer missing apparently. The entire case lasted less than thirty hours. He had only talked to the one friend of Steve and a neighbor, looking through some credit card histories, before he was called saying that the case was over. Steven Rogers-Barnes was in the hospital for what looked like a rough beating. Now, he just needed a statement, and he was done. 

A man rushed down the hallway and Coulson recognized the husband. He was wearing the same clothes that he was early this morning, still rumpled, and still with the heavy bags under his eyes. “Detective!” He cried out. “Is it Steve?” Coulson nodded. “Can I see him?” 

“Yes, go ahead,” Coulson motioned for the room. “I’ll be in later to ask a few questions.” Barnes nodded before rushing into the room. Coulson watched from the door as Barnes quickly went over to sit on the edge of the hospital bed. Steve opened his eyes and smiled as best he could with his face as bruised as it was. It looked like he tried to say something before Coulson turned away. 

His phone rang, and he picked it up before walking into an empty divot in the hall. “Coulson,” he answered. 

“It’s Hill. You’ll never believe what just happened. They found Rumlow murdered off of 14th street. Bullet straight through the eyes. We ran ballistics on it, and found clean finger prints belonging to Alexander Pierce. But get this, there are no records of him anywhere; no tickets, no credit cards, no phone numbers, nothing, just this name on a screen. The guy doesn’t exist.”

**Author's Note:**

> [come send me headcannons on tumblr](http://bagels-and-seagulls.tumblr.com/)


End file.
